I, Peter Pettigrew
by Aiko'sNight-Patrol
Summary: ONESHOT. How did Peter Pettigrew, Gryffindor, Marauder, general nice guy, end up committing one of the most foul and despicable acts known to wizard kind?


Double Agent.

_Double Agent. _

It's got a ring to it, don't you think? A sort of bad-boy appeal? Yeah?

That's what I thought. At first. Before it hits you. Before you become one, and then realise-too late- that all 'double agent' really is, is a code- code for betrayal, code for misery, code for _watch your back. _

_I, Peter Pettigrew, was a double Agent. _

Shall I tell you how it started? Would you like to hear how Peter Pettigrew- friend of the Potters, descended from a long line of pureblood, Gryffindor Warlocks- ended up here- as a _rat_- scared for his own life, because he committed such an unspeakably despicable act that ever showing his face in the wizarding community again would result in a fate far, far worse than death?

I hope your answer was yes. Because I am going to tell you. I _need_ to tell you.

_I, Peter Pettigrew, was a marauder._

I loved school.

I was always really in the shadow of James and Sirius- nowhere near as clever as them, nor as popular with the girls. But I was still a _marauder_, and unless you attended Hogwarts during those few short years of our reign, you could not possibly understand the status that brought upon you.

You were adored. Idolised, almost, even me! I am not naïve, I know what school would have been like had James and Sirius never befriended me. I would have been invisible, vanished due to my silence, my lack or verbal opinion, the absence of Remus' brains, or James' charisma, or Sirius' looks.

But they were my _friends_. As a result, girls liked me, teachers put up with me, boys talked to me.

I know, at the time, people seemed faintly incredulous of this fact. Quiet, stupid little Peter, friends with the _marauders? _But that was how it was. I may have been quiet, I may have been stupid, and yet still I fought the opinion that I was a marauder for the sole reason that I could flatter their egos or do their dirty work. The thing is, I may lack academic genius, but when it comes to stealth I am invaluable- something that is both my best feature and worst fault.

I could help them. Without me, some of their best pranks would never have been completed- some never even thought up! _I_ was the one who could halt the whomping willow, _I _was the one who could get into places no one else could. That was why _I_ was a marauder.

_I, Peter Pettigrew, was a friend_.

I was a good friend. I remember Lily coming to me after James proposed. She was so happy, she was almost crying! I think I was the first person she told! I loved Lily- she was so perfect for James. They were like two halves of a person, neither one complete without the other. And their wedding day. Sirius was best man, of course, but I was there too!

The ceremony was held in the spring, in a tiny church in Shropshire. I remember how the blossom made it look like it was snowing, and how Sirius' best man speech caused such a riot their were people queuing for the loos they'd laughed so hard.

It was odd, that day. I didn't know that in the months following, I would change from the person I was then into something worse than any nightmare.

Shortly after that, The Order was formed. Save from Hogwarts I would say that the few months before my fall from Grace were some of the happiest in my life. We were constantly in danger, constantly in fear of our lives, but in a way that made it all the better, because we lived every day as if we would never see another. And then, one night, the Lestranges come to my flat.

I, Peter Pettigrew, was a coward. 

I have never been a brave person. Sure, at Hogwarts I snuck around in the dead of night with a werewolf, but that was when people had my back. Bigger, braver people. On my own? I couldn't defend even myself.

It was just gone midnight when they came. This was before most of the Order was put into hiding, and the security on the flat was not difficult to get round if you knew what you were doing.

Bellatrix Lestrange always knows what she is doing.

'_Expelliarmus'_

I remember that word; that voice. Dripping with undisguised mirth, she had pointed her wand at my heart. I was surprised it didn't stop, I was so afraid.

She told me she would kill me. Pointing her wand at my wall, she had muttered the killing curse, and a moth that had perched there fell, lifeless, to the floor.

Have you ever experienced terror? True terror? I think it is an overused word. _Real _terror is what I felt that night.

It feels cold.

As if your world is about to fall apart and you are stood there, frozen in the moment, like ice. All those things you ever took for granted- your heartbeat, the sound of each breath- is increased a hundredfold.

Every intake of air seemed to rattle around the walls.

_And then I heard that one little word. _

The word that ruined my life.

The word that made up my mind for me.

The word that made me what- I cannot say who- I am today.

That one … tiny … word. …

Crucio 

I cannot even begin to describe the pain inflicted by that little curse. I have heard it being compared to being stabbed with a million white-hot knives, with being ripped from your body, you life, and your dignity. And it is true. It feels like that, and worse. Much worse.

I am not that brave.

I, Peter Pettigrew, was a sneak 

I couldn't say no. I would have died. Cowardly, pathetic peter Pettigrew. So afraid of death and pain that he would betray his friends, his family and everything he stood for to save his own stinking skin.

Is that what you are thinking of me?

Believe me, however low you think I am, however despicable, is nothing to what I think of myself. I know that I should have died that night. I know that by right I should be rotting in the deepest circle of hell. If I were to look in the mirror I would see myself- in the most appropriate rat form- a foul despicable entity.

And I loathe it.

Every step I took in those days, week, and months of my double agent life felt tainted. Tainted by what I had done. But I think, deep down, I enjoyed it at first. Just a little bit. See, I enjoyed being important in a way I had never been before. With the marauders I was valuable. Now I was _necessary. _And it felt powerful. Sickening, soul-destroying yes. But powerful.

And then Harry was born.

They were the perfect family, back then. Lily, James, Harry. And Sirius, of course. I don't think Sirius could have loved that kid more if he had been his own son. He spoiled him rotten- toys, chocolate, ludicrously expensive clothes that he would grow out of in a matter of weeks. It was perfect, beautiful, loving- every thing that I had been taught to hate, and yet could not.

Yet in January that following year, I would begin to destroy it. Snape was the one who heard the prophecy, and knew what it meant. Severus Snape, Hogwarts enemy of the marauders. That Bastard. He almost laughed telling the Dark Lord the news. He knew it was his chance to get back at James, the one who had hurt and mocked and loathed him. He didn't give a damn about other people getting hurt. I suppose it was a sort of added bonus for him. Little did I know that my own part in the prophecy would get so much greater.

I, Peter Pettigrew, was a traitor 

I remember that fateful day as if it were yesterday. Sirius came to me in secret, in the dead of night. Told me his plan.

I swear to God I tried to resist. I tried to tell him to ask someone else, someone less obvious. But that was the trouble. I _was_ the least obvious.

That was why throughout all the time spent with the increasingly paranoid Order- who knew there was a traitor in their ranks- I had never once been suspected.

That was why no one ever suspected mutiny when I left meetings in a hurry, or turned up late, or forgot to keep in contact.

That was why not only was I the perfect Death Eater; I was the perfect Secret Keeper as well.

You don't keep things from Lord Voldemort. Lord knows I tried. I was never good at occlumency- he saw through me in a matter of seconds. And I knew it was the end. He told me Lily and James would not be hurt, but deep down, I knew the truth.

I knew then what I would become.

I knew that Sirius would be suspected, and that I would ruin his life.

I knew that I would be the death of not only a helpless baby, but also two loving, wonderful adults- adults who were far too young, and talented, and valuable to die.

I knew that it was my entire fault.

_I, Peter Pettigrew, was a murderer_

Lily and James were dead. Harry survived. Voldemort- vanished. Can you imagine how I felt? I should have felt like _shit_, completely _foul. _I had _murdered _my best friends! And yet all I felt was fear, because I had also inadvertently killed my own master, and without him I was defenceless.

And Sirius came after me, as I always knew he would. But what did I do? Did I stand there, finally brave, and admit what I had done? Did I flee? No, I took the cowardly way out, like I always have done.

I blamed Sirius.

As if murdering two of my friends wasn't enough, I left the other one to a half-life, a miserable life behind the bars of the most notorious prison on the planet. Azkaban.

And I took 13 muggles with me- 13 defenceless, innocent civilians. And then I scuttled down to the sewers, the low-life, scummy place where I belong. I could hear Sirius laughing as he was taken away. I suppose, having lost everything, my death was the only consolation. Ironic- I couldn't even manage to die with dignity.

Now, where am I? Living in a wizard house, a pet, my lowlife little rat ears listening for any hint of news about my master. So if I do hear it, I can flee once again from the wrath of the Death eaters- those other people I betrayed by evading Azkaban.

I am nothing.

I am a shell.

I am empty.

_I, Peter Pettigrew, am dead to the world. _

_0o0o_

_oookkayy...that was a random FLASH of inspiration there! Hope you liked. If anyone is interested, I should be updating Girl From Mars within the next few days (my beta is on holiday at the moment)_

_Review?_


End file.
